


Let Me See Your Beauty Broken Down

by jackles67



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackles67/pseuds/jackles67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared has an online Dom who gives him orders, including which toys to use and when to come. Eventually, they decide to meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me See Your Beauty Broken Down

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [this](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/72286.html?thread=24833374#t24833374) prompt at the spn kink meme:
> 
> "He's been getting more and more outrageous orders from his anonymous online Dom for awhile now. It started off small, but now Master wants him to be hard all the time - to show what a slut he is and to wear a plug, that he can't take out with out permission which he can only get by texting his Master.
> 
> He doesn't know how his Master knows, but he always knows when he doesn't follow orders."
> 
> Also, the title is from the Leonard Cohen song 'Take This Longing'. And it's unbetaed. Feel free to point out any errors.

He doesn’t bother getting dressed after his morning shower, just logs on and checks his messages. There’s a new one from his Master and Jared has the passing thought that it’s sort of ridiculous how an unread message from “masterjross” gets him hard.

[[Good boy.]]

Jared smiles at the praise, warm pride at having pleased his master spreading through him. He had to work for that “Good boy,” last night and every second was worth it for this.

[[Today you’ll use the black plug. Make sure to slick it up well before plugging up that tight ass, since you’ll be keeping it in there until I decide you’ve been good enough.]]

Jared gulps. His Master is extremely attentive and seeks out Jared’s buttons like a guided missile, but he always, always pushes Jared’s boundaries further than he ever thought they could go. If his Master’s not telling him when the plug’s coming out, chances are it’ll be long after Jared’s begging.

[[This is my number: (415) 555-1693. You will text me to let me know that the plug is inside you, and you will text me again when you wish to remove it. You will not remove it without my permission. If you are uncomfortable texting me, you may use email.]]

Jared grins, though he’s still nervous. He’s been hoping his Master would want to exchange phone numbers soon - maybe this means he’ll be ready to meet in person someday.

[[I expect to hear from you soon.]]

Jared stands up, legs already shaky at the thought of the day he’s going to have. He pulls the black plug (not his biggest, but definitely not his smallest) out of the box of toys his Master has instructed him to buy. He strokes his fingertips over the the velvet-soft tip, the thicker, rounded bulb of it, imagining it inside him all morning. A shiver of anticipation goes through him and he feels his hole clench on imaginary pressure, precome beading at the tip of his cock.

Jared smears lube on it, more than he thinks he needs, and gets on his knees on the bed. He likes to do this like he has an audience, imagines his Master watching him now as he presses the slick wet tip of the plug against his hole. He thought about stretching himself with his fingers first but he wants the stretch, that slight burn as his ass opens to accommodate the hard silicone. He moans when he reaches the widest part of the plug, holding it there for a moment before shoving the rest of the way in. It feels deeper than it is, pressing up against his inner walls, filling him up. He moans again when he moves to stand, pressure shifting inside him, and he fights the urge to reach back and pull it out, fuck it back in, over and over till he comes.

His cock is angry-red and so hard, dripping precome on his thigh as he gingerly makes his way to his desk to pull out his cell. He types the text as quickly as he can and doesn’t move after, standing still and waiting for the reply.

[[The plug is inside me, Master.]]

[[Good boy, Jay. Now I want you to play with your nipples - pinch and twist them both, hard - until you need to come. Then text me again.]]

Jared drops the phone back on the desk, fumbling in his eagerness to comply. He rubs one nipple, then the other, both already hard from putting in the plug. His Master loves to make him play with them - Jared remembers when Master found out he had extremely sensitive nipples. It was back when they’d first started chatting, and his Master would ask him question after question, pushing Jared to lay his every dirty secret open, to describe his filthiest fantasies until Jared was achingly hard as he typed and any semblance of a filter had long disappeared. Jared sometimes thinks Master must have memorized those early conversations, because he plays Jared’s kinks like an instrument.

When his body is screaming for relief and his nipples are so erect they’re sore, his cock throbbing and jerking with every touch, ass clamping down on the plug until it’s shifting inside him, Jared texts his Master back.

[[I need to come Master, please. Please let me come.]]

The reply is immediate.

[[Don’t come. Take a cold shower if you need to, but don’t come and don’t remove the plug. I expect to you to stay hard as long as it’s inside you. I’ll know if you disobey.]]

Jared practically scrambles to the shower, clenching his fists to keep from wrapping them around his dick. He’s never been this close and pulled back and he hasn’t even touched his cock yet. For a second, before the water starts, Jared considers cheating and jerking off in the shower but he just _knows_ his Master would know. He always knows.

The first time Jared disobeyed, it was a few weeks into their arrangement. He was supposed to finger himself in the shower without coming, but once he’d started, he found he couldn’t stop himself from touching his cock. He’d thought he’d just touch it a little and then stop, but of course he ended up painting the tiled walls of his shower with come. He’s still not sure how his Master found out - he thinks he might have sounded guilty in his next email. Some days, Jared’s sure his Master can see him, but that’s crazy. Still, he does his best not to disobey - the punishments range from not coming for a week at a time to fucking himself on his biggest dildo while deepthroating his second biggest. For all that it had him coming harder than he’d thought possible, that takes a lot of coordination and he was sore for three days so he’d really rather not repeat the experience.

Jared gets dressed in a hurry after his second shower - he’ll probably be a little late for work, which isn’t actually too big a deal but he’d rather not - and grabs his briefcase, awkwardly carrying it in front of him the whole way. Master ordered him to stop wearing underwear a few weeks ago and he hasn’t lifted that ban. Jared only lives a few blocks from the office but it’s still enough for him to pray he doesn’t run into anyone he knows the whole way there.

He’s not entirely successful - he almost bumps into Ackles in the revolving door at the front of the building and has to make distracted, awkward small talk with him in the elevator. He doesn’t really know the guy, just that he works on the same floor but doesn’t have his own office. And that he’s ridiculously pretty. He’s new, Jared thinks, or at least he only started noticing him a couple of months ago - and now he bumps into him everywhere.

He thinks he’d probably have asked the guy out if he’d met him back before he met his Master - now, Jared can’t imagine trying to date. He’s not even sure he could get off without those smooth, uninterested orders and a Master to please.

Jared mutters a quick “bye,” to Ackles before hurrying to his office and shutting the door behind him. He can already tell today won’t be the most productive of days.

The plug pushes up against his prostate when he sits down and he can’t resist rocking back and forth a couple of times, closing his eyes to lose himself in the way the plug rubs inside him, the way the base shifts against his hole, the scratchy-soft brush of fabric against his cock. He forces himself to stop with a herculean effort and tries to push his arousal to the back of his mind.

An hour later, he’s completed exactly two lines of the proposal he’s working on and he’s practically panting in his chair. His hole feels so good held open like this, his cock is hard and so hot against his skin and he thinks he’s going to come without permission one way or another before the morning’s through, so he pulls out his phone.

[[Master, please let me come.]]

The reply is quick and sends an excited shudder through him, even as his heart sinks.

[[Don’t come. The nipple clamps should still be in your desk drawer after you wore them last week. Put them on now. Text me when it’s done.]]

Jared knows he should go lock his office door before he does this, but the thought of walking, even just across his office, when he’s this hard and this desperate seems impossible. He untucks his shirt and slips a hand up to his nipple to attach the first clamp, rubbing the cold metal against it first. They’re special clamps that his Master picked out personally and instructed him to buy - safe to wear for long periods of time, though his Master hasn’t asked him to do so yet. He lets out a sharp gasp when it closes over his skin and has to grab his desk, breathing hard and fighting the urge to get a hand on his cock. The second one is worse - he’s even more sensitive and now he remembers how good this feels, he  _wants_  it.

By the time he’s picking up the phone to text his master, shirt tucked back in and clamps rubbing against the fabric to make him shudder every few seconds, Jared’s hips are rocking in minute circles and the front of his pants are growing damp with precome.

[[The nipple clamps are on, Master.]]

[[Good boy.]]

That’s it. No further instructions, no permission to come, nothing. Jared stills his hips and tries desperately to focus on anything other than the hard, unforgiving pressure in his ass and the throbbing ache in his nipples. The effort required takes everything he has but it leaves him with the heady thrum of pleasure that accompanies the act of submitting to his Master’s will.

He loses himself in mindless paperwork for an hour, the sensations brought on by the clamps and plug never far from his mind, lulling him into a hazy cycle of arousal, discomfort, and the warm certainty that he’ll be rewarded for being such a good boy.

Back when they first started playing, Jared used to get nervous about following these instructions. He wasn’t sure what his Dom would ask of him next or whether he was even capable of following through on some of his more exacting demands, but his Master rewarded him every time he tied his own wrists and fucked himself on the biggest dildo he had, every time he came dry because they’d been playing for hours but his Master wanted to wring another orgasm out of him, every time he had to excuse himself from a meeting to finger himself in the bathroom at the exact time his Master had ordered him to.

Every reward and every word of praise had multiplied Jared’s trust in his Master until now he only hesitates for a moment at the orders designed to push his limits. This is one of them, but he’s feeling particularly secure in the fact that his Master will take care of him, will make him feel good.

The buzz of his phone pulls him out of the fog, brings reality back into sharp focus and he groans quietly as he checks the message.

[[You will keep the plug in and the clamps on for the duration of your lunch break. You will not eat lunch in your office. I want you somewhere everyone can see your slutty ass squirm.]]

The words send another hot pulse through Jared’s body and he’s struggling for control when there’s a knock at his office door.

“It’s open,” he calls after a deep breath and a sip of water. It’s Ackles. He barely sticks his head in the door.

“I’m heading out for lunch, you wanna come with?”

Jared knows his Master would want him to say yes - he did specify that he wanted Jared in public - so he nods and stands, biting back a groan at the shift of the plug and the way the clamps seem to hold even tighter as he moves.

They head out down the hall, into the elevator to the cafeteria and the entire time Jared manages to keep up some semblance of a conversation without ever really being aware of what he’s saying. Ackles looks at him a little too closely a few times, but Jared’s pretty sure he can’t tell what’s going on under his clothes. He does brush up against Jared’s chest on the way out of the elevator in a way that has Jared practically twitching, but he thinks he covers it up nicely with a fake cough.

Lunch is somewhere between torture and ecstasy. The seat Jared’s sitting in is plastic and pushes the plug deeper, the position in which he’s sitting angling it straight at his prostate. He’s so hard it’s like his whole body is throbbing and somehow he’s reached a level of arousal where everything gets him wound tighter. Ackles, sitting directly across from Jared and taking what feels like a half hour to eat a banana, is definitely not helping. Jared gets captivated by his plush, wet lips wrapping around the fruit, the way his eyelashes sweep against his cheek for a moment as he bites down, the sparkle in his eye when he looks up and catches Jared staring.

“Something I can help you with?” Ackles asks, and Jared could swear his eyes drop down Jared’s body for a second. He wants to scream “yes”, maybe even get on his knees and beg, because right now all he can focus on is how those lips would feel around his too-sensitive cock, how tight and wet and soft that mouth looks, how incredibly good it would feel to finally, finally come. He thinks Ackles is actually offering, too, given the way his eyes keep wandering over Jared like he’s a goddamn steak and Ackles is starving.

But he can’t, because his Master hasn’t given him permission, so he changes the subject and tries to get himself under control.

After lunch is when Jared figures his Master will give him permission to take the clamps off, the plug out, and get a hand on himself. He’s only a partially right.

[[Lock the door to your office and pull your pants down. Bend over your desk. Text me when it’s done.]]

The words go through Jared like a shock and he’s practically buzzing with excitement when he finally gets his chest flat to the desk, ass in the air and feet wide.

[[It’s done, Master.]]

[[Reach back and twist the plug a few times to get it loose. Pull it almost all the way out, then push it back in. Hard. I want you to imagine it’s me fucking you. Don’t touch your cock.]]

Jared follows the instructions, tugging at the plug hard to pull it nearly completely free. His hole has tightened as much as it can around the narrowest part, so shoving it back in almost hurts a little, but it mostly feels so good he’s a little worried he’ll come without permission.

His chest being against the desk means his nipples are on fire with sensation, the clamps pulling this way and that and sending little jabs of heat straight to his cock. He can just imagine his Master’s hand pushing between his shoulder blades, holding him down while he fucks into Jared’s slutty ass... He knows he’s making just a little too much noise, not enough that someone’ll knock, but enough he’s flushing with embarrassment as well as arousal. When the phone buzzes again he almost doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to stop doing this. He wants to please his Master more though, so he checks the message.

[[Pull it all the way out, so the tip is pressed against your hole. Hold it there.]]

Jared does it, a little confused but too turned on to really think about it. The next text comes ten seconds later, when Jared’s biting his lip to keep from pushing back on the plug, his abs and thigh muscles tense with the effort. His cock keeps dripping precome, head pushed up against the underside of the desk, and he just _knows_ that if he shifted back and forth a couple times the friction would be enough to come.

[[Shove it in as hard as you can. Get dressed and get back to work.]]

Jared nearly cries out when he does it, the sharp sting and deep satisfaction of being filled combining to bring him right to the edge, _again_. He can barely see straight as he pulls his pants up and straightens his clothes, checking his reflection in the window pane before going to unlock the door.

Jared’s past thinking he can’t do this at this point - in fact, he’s past thinking at all. All he can do is stare at his computer screen and feel his world narrow down to the pressure in his ass that’s just starting to become an ache, which is somehow making it _better_. His nipples throb with a steady pulse that becomes the only thing Jared can hear and he loses himself in the sensations, in the way he doesn’t have to _think_ , doesn’t even have to make a single decision, barely has to exist outside of this submission. It’s like a powerful powerful drug, both in the way it quiets Jared’s brain to a single, steady pulse, and the way it makes time pass both quickly and slowly.

He could have been sitting there for ten minutes, or  ten years for all Jared’s aware. When the phone buzzes, it barely tugs at his mind and he checks the message reflexively, without giving it a moment’s thought.  

[[Take off the nipple clamps. Text me when you’re home. Stay hard like a good little slut.]]

Jared almost laughs at the last order. He didn’t think it was possible to stay this hard this long without permanent injury but he’s reached the point where he’s not going soft until he comes his brains out.

The clamps come off with a rush of fire and sensation into his sore, abused nipples and the painpleasure snaps him back to full awareness. He bites his lip to stave of the orgasm he knows is going to catch up with him eventually. All he can do is hope his Master orders him to come soon, because the punishment for coming without permission involves pushing Jared until he can’t remember his own name and while it fills him with a weird hungry anticipation, he’s also kind of scared of how far his Master will make him go.

The walk home is barely a flash in Jared’s mind - out the door, down the hall, into the elevator, out the lobby, pretend not to see Ackles so he doesn’t have to stare at those fucking _lips_ , that goddamn green stare that Jared just knows sees way too much, and down the street, throwing one glance back because Ackles turned away and Jared can never resist the sight of that tight, perfect ass.

Jared breathes a sigh of relief when he finally closes his front door behind him, though he knows it’s a brief respite. There’s no guarantee his Master’s done playing with him - in fact, Jared has a feeling the fun has only begun.

The first time Jared wore a plug for his Master was the first time he’d ever used one. His Master let him choose it, which Jared at first thought was a small mercy. Jared had miscalculated. He’d fucked himself on much bigger toys before, but a plug is different - it stays inside you, pressure growing as you try to ignore it, every movement reminding you what a slut you are, who you belong to. Or at least that’s how it was for Jared when he was ordered to wear one on a Sunday morning. Two hours didn’t seem so long until one hour in he was sweating and soaking his boxers with precome, trying to focus on the dishes and debating whether he could still go for his jog like this. He didn’t, at least not that time. He broke down and emailed his Master after an hour and twenty minutes, begging for relief, promising to be such a good boy for him if he could just come. It turned out, his Master wasn’t all that big on mercy.

It’s one of Jared’s favorite things about him.

Tonight Jared can just about handle the overstimulation, at least enough to get himself to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes from the front door to his bed. He has his phone out and one hand around the base of his cock, not stroking, just holding himself, the cool press of his palm against his fever-hot erection like a sip of water in a scorching desert.

[[I’m home.]]

The reply comes so fast Jared doesn’t have time to drop the phone.

[[I’m not. Be a good boy and wait for me. I bet you’re already on your bed, slutty little ass squirming on that plug.]]

[[Yes, Master.]]

Jared’s blushing hot from the accuracy of those words - _squirming on that plug_  and he thinks he might actually set fire to the bed - spontaneous combustion is a thing, isn’t it? It’d be a fitting end for a guy who gets off on sexual frustration. He’s trying very hard not to arch his back and shove his ass against the mattress when the phone buzzes again.

[[Do you think you’ve been a good boy today?]]

[[Yes, Master, please, I need to come, I’ll be so good for you.]]

[[Yes, you will. I want you to take that plug out now, it’s been stretching you all day, holding you open for me. You’re going to get your vibrator out - the purple one - and I want you to lube it up real nice. Then I want you to spread your legs as wide as you can and hold that vibrator against your hole. And then I want you to call me.]]

Jared’s heart picks up at the last order - he’d been expecting to get to fuck himself, and probably to have to follow texted instructions while he did it, but this is new. He’s going to hear his Master’s voice and the thought shouldn’t be quite so exciting and... _good_. He’s never had anyone get him this hot, make him come this hard, and he’s never felt this _safe_  with anyone. He always knows his Master will provide exactly what Jared needs, will hold him back or let him go as he sees fit, and while Jared’s felt the need to submit his whole life, he’s never wanted to submit to one specific person so badly.

Jared can’t hold back the twisted, muffled yelp when he pries the plug out. His ass is sore, throbbing and so empty Jared whimpers at the hollow ache. He’s never wanted so badly to be filled up, and if he can’t have his Master’s cock pushing into him, at least he can have the pleasure of showing his Master how good he is, how good he can fuck himself.

He takes a moment, arm twisted back under his hips to hold the tip of the not-yet-buzzing vibrator against his hole. His body is screaming to shove it in and his mind itching to hear his Master’s voice in his ear but he knows this is it - after this, there’s no going back: he’s going to _need_  to meet the man who’s driving him crazy, who’s taking every scrap of inhibition Jared had and burning them up, one typed word at a time.

“Did you follow my instructions?”

The voice is whiskey and smoke, grittier than expected but somehow smooth as honey underneath, and so incredibly _commanding_  - like there’s no doubt Jared followed his instructions, like there’s no doubt _everyone_  would obey that voice. Jared gathers enough of a semblance of composure to answer, though he knows his own voice is strained and trembling, desperation breaking through and cracking at the edges.

“Yes, Master. I’m - I’m like you said,” Jared finishes, pushing the phone closer until it’s digging into his temple and blushing at his own embarrassment. He usually doesn’t have this problem but apparently actually vocalizing the words isn’t the same as typing them.

A dark chuckle comes across the line and it strikes a chord somewhere deep in Jared’s mind, somewhere buried under the hours of arousal that he can’t quite dig through.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy now that you’re all spread out for me?” The amused tone is _so_  familiar but Jared doesn’t care, doesn’t want to _think_. “Now tell me. How does it feel? Knowing you got that pretty ass ready for me all day long, that you’ll only come if I let you?”

The whimper that falls from Jared’s lips doesn’t quite form a word and he shivers at the chuckle that comes through the phone.

“You can do better than that.”

“Good,” Jared gasps, body twisting down to try and push the vibrator in. “Feels so good, wearing the plug for you, doing all this for you.”

“Mmm, that’s better. Yeah, you like being a good boy for me, don’t you? So good, Jay.” His Master pauses and Jared pants into the phone, waiting, muscles trembling with pent up tension. “Go ahead, Jay. Fuck yourself. Do it hard, do it like I’d do it if I were there. So fast, so fucking hard, I’d pin you down and make you take it.”

Jared lets loose a cry that’s half whimper and half growl when he shoves the vibrator in and starts fucking himself - exactly the way he imagines his Master would do it, with no real regard for his own enjoyment, just fucking him raw and deep and so, so good. Jared wishes he didn’t have to twist like this, wishes he could spread himself and take everything his Master wanted to give, offer himself completely and be used like the slut he is.

“Good boy. Now I want you turn the vibrator on and push it against your prostate. Keep fucking yourself with it, just make sure it hits that spot. Don’t come.”

Jared groans and writhes, twisting to press his teeth against the sheets, not quite biting them. There’s a fine sheen of sweat covering his entire body, hair dampening at his temples and the nape of his neck, and he can’t keep from tensing every time the toy hits his prostate. He’s going to come without permission, he just knows it, and he can’t find his voice to beg.

“Let me hear you. I wanna hear you moan like a whore, I know you’re holding it back right now but you don’t have to hide it. I know you’re my dirty little slut.”

The words barely slip through Jared’s tense concentration but he obeys as if on reflex, clenched jaw loosening to release a series of moans so raw and loud that he flushes even deeper, feels as if his Master can see every inch of blood-pink skin and it feels so good, imagining his Master here, watching him, fucking him, _owning_  him.

“Fuck yeah baby, you love this, don’t you? Want me to fuck you? Want me to hold you down and fuck you till you can’t walk, till you can’t breathe without me inside you?”

Jared loses it at the visual, the thought of big hands wrapped around his wrists and shoving him into the mattress. His come spatters across his chest and stomach, muscles clenching hard around the toy, vibrations drawing every ounce of pleasure from him in shaky aftershocks.

“Jay,” comes a low purr over the phone which is somehow still wedged between Jared’s sweat-damp shoulder and his ear. “Did I give you permission to come?”

“Nnff.” Not quite a word, but definitely negative. A spark of anxiety is lighting in Jared’s stomach, the knowledge that he’s going to be punished. Maybe even tonight.

“You know what happens when you come without permission, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Jared says, pulling the vibrator out and turning it off with a click. He rolls onto his side, tugging the sheet up over his suddenly shivering skin. He always gets this way after playing, like he really needs to be touched by warm hands, maybe have someone’s body pressed against his but there’s no one here.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” his master murmurs and Jared struggles to keep his eyes open. “I’m going to give you a choice about your punishment. I’ll give you a couple of days to rest, and then you can either take your punishment like this, over the phone, or we can do it in person.”

Jared’s eyes shoot open. This is what he’s been wanting, what he’s been itching to bring up. _Finally_.

“In person.” He manages to get the words out, mumbly but definitely comprehensible, and sighs with relief when a small laugh comes over the line.

“Okay. We’ll set it up, maybe sometime next week. I want to make sure I can take all the time I need for this. Really get the lesson in, because I don’t want you coming without permission again, okay?”

Jared mumbles in reply and his Master laughs again.

“Sleep well, Jared. I’ll see you soon.”

Jared doesn’t even register the use of his real name until long after the line goes dead, and then it’s only to think to himself, _I knew that voice sounded familiar._

***

****

They decide on Saturday afternoon, no distractions, at Jared’s house. Jared wonders if he should be worried about meeting someone who _should_  be a stranger, but he finds himself unable to believe that his Master would hurt him more than Jared wants to be hurt.

It helps that his Master sent him an invitation to chat the night after that first phone call and insisted on rehashing Jared’s likes and dislikes, what he’s okay with, what he can’t stand. Something about a person’s limits being different in person, and Jared guesses he understands - the thought of hearing that calm, assertive voice in person, of the hands that go with it on his body, is enough to get him off more than he thinks might be healthy.

They haven’t been using a safeword so far - mostly because “no” worked just fine and if Jared ever wanted to stop, all he had to do was hang up or not check his email - but Jared’s picked one now. It’s the same one he always uses, something that’ll be on the tip of his tongue the second he needs it and that he won’t have to say otherwise.

The last item on his Master’s excessively thorough checklist isn’t a kink or a precaution - it’s a question, and one Jared’s been half expecting.

[[I think you may have realized by now that you and I are already acquaintances.]]

[[Yeah, I sort of figured.]]

[[Would you like me to reveal my identity before we meet in person? I’d prefer not to, but it might take some of the pressure off.]]

Jared thinks about it. Imagines the people in his life - friends, coworkers, the guy who sells him his newspaper, that guy down the street with seven kids - and figures this is separate. This is something they can do that has nothing to do with their real lives. Sure, he’s hoping the guy isn’t married - in fact, now that he thinks about it, that might be sort of a deal-breaker - but he also doesn’t care who his Master is in real life. He _knows_  the guy here, like this, and that’s enough for him.

[[No.]]

***

Saturday morning, Jared wakes up with the same fluttering he gets in his stomach on Christmas. By midmorning, there’s an edge of anxiety to it and he’s not sure why. He wants, wants it really bad actually, but there’s this... uncertainty - not about his Master, but about himself. About whether he’s capable of this.

He goes for a run and showers and eats lunch and sits in his unusually clean bedroom - fresh sheets and everything - with his box of toys placed on the cleared off bedside table. There’s lube and condoms, rope and cuffs, a riding crop he’s never used, a blindfold he’s sort of hoping not to use, and a whole array of toys he’s slowly accumulated over the years. The sight of them all spread out like this has him a little embarrassed and also kind of oddly proud.

The doorbell sends a bolt of adrenaline through him and he sheds his boxers, tossing them into the bathroom before calling out “It’s open!” with a quick prayer that it’s actually his Master. Jared decided that it would be easiest for him if they started out with him already in sub mode - the last thing he wants is awkward small talk.

Jared kneels by the bed, facing the door with his knees spread loose and easy and his back arched, hands flat on his thighs. The front door opens and his heart is slamming in his chest, palms sweating against his skin. He tries not to shift uncomfortably at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, down the hall, stopping just behind his half-open door.

His Master knocks, fucking _knocks_  like Jared is in any condition to be speaking but he manages to drag a strangled “Come in” from somewhere in his throat and then the door is opening, fast and casual, not the ominous creak he’d been expecting.

Ackles is standing there in his crisp, perfect suit, poised on the threshold while Jared blinks, torn between _I knew it_  and _What? How? What?_. The moment stretches out until Jared realizes he’s expected to respond, do something, so he dips his head in a tiny nod and Ackles, no, his Master, smiles and walks in, shutting the door behind him.

He looks the same as always - a little too masculine to be pretty, a little too pretty to be so... _rugged_. Jared struggles with the urge to look away, drop his gaze to the carpet or something because his Master is just standing there letting his eyes roam all over Jared’s naked body, lingering between his spread legs and somewhere below his eyes. Jared can feel the blush that’s surely staining his cheeks, crawling down his chest to his hardening nipples. His Master’s smile widens.

“Well isn’t this is a pretty sight.” _Fuck_ , how can a voice be so fucking _sexy_? “Wouldn’t mind walking in on you like this more often, Jay. On your knees is a good look for you.

Jared flushes even deeper with the praise, his knees shifting to spread a little more. His Master toes off his shoes by the door and steps around Jared, slowly coming to stand behind him.

“What’s your safeword, Jay?”

It takes him a couple tries.

“Vedder, Master.”

“Good boy. Master’s kind of a mouthful, though, don’t you think?” The words are accompanied by a warm, sold hand on the back of his neck and Jared manages a noncommittal whimper.

“You can call me Sir. Or Jensen, if you prefer,” he adds, like it’s an afterthought.

 _Jensen_. Jared itches to try it out but he can’t bring himself to say it.

“Yes Sir.” It’s shaky and breathy and Jensen is chuckling at him but it’s not mean, just amused and affectionate. Jared leans back slightly, just barely enough to press against that hand on his neck, to feel a warm dry palm firm against his skin. Jensen gives him a light squeeze before pulling away.

“On the bed. Hands and knees, face the headboard.” Jensen’s tone is clipped and Jared immediately obeys, not bothering to get up, just turning and crawling onto the bed. “Spread your knees a little more.”

Jared does, blushing hot. He’s so, _so_  exposed like this, his back a curved arc and his ass up, everything on display for his Master. He’s been half hard since before the doorbell rang, fully hard since Jensen laid eyes on him, and now he’s dripping, his cock full and heavy between his legs.

Jensen’s standing by the bed and when Jared shoots him a glance from under his hair, he’s perusing through the box of toys, letting out an occasional chuckle or murmur of appreciation. When he finally turns to Jared, he’s holding a pair of wrist cuffs in one hand and nipple clamps - not the ones from Jared’s office, his other pair, the kind that squeeze tighter and can’t be worn too long - in the other. Jared’s pulse starts to race.

The cuffs go on first - Jensen pulls his arms behind his back, first one, then the other, Jared awkwardly trying not to faceplant and Jensen steadying him with one hand until his chest is against the bed, cheek pressed to the soft sheet. The moment he feels the soft, padded interior of the cuffs around his wrist he starts to breathe easier, a warm calm spreading through when his wrists are hooked together.

The clamps go on with a gasp and a whimper from him and a satisfied sigh from Jensen. A warm hand smoothing down his back steadies him and when it comes to rest on his ass, cupping his cheek, fingertips dipping to _almost_  brush his hole, Jared can’t resist pressing back just a little, the movement dragging the clamps along the bed, tugging at his sensitive nipples.

“We’ll start with your punishment.”

He doesn’t expect the blow, though he really should considering the way Jensen’s hand disappears so quickly, rush of cool air coming in to light up his nerves. His Master’s hand is big and heavy and it comes down hard, the sting of it ending sparks up his spine and he can’t hold back a yelp. Jensen’s other hand comes to rest on the back of his neck, fingertips in his hair, and Jared bows his head to give him more room.

The next blow is even harder, faster, to the soft skin where his thigh meets his ass and Jared instinctively tries to move away even as his mind is screaming _harder, more_. Jensen yanks him back by the hair, thick fingers twisted up in it and Jared moans at the pleasure-pain, the tug on his scalp a perfect counterpoint to the sting of his ass.

“You gonna hold still for me, darlin’?” Jensen asks, his voice rougher, accent stronger. Jared nods as much as he can in his Master’s tight grip only to receive another sharp tug. “I want an answer, Jay.”

“Yes, Master. _Please_.”

Jensen chuckles again and loosens his grip, not letting go entirely, and lifts his other hand again. It’s _perfect_ , exactly how Jared likes - rough enough that he can act out and get put back in his place, but not so rough that he can’t obey once he’s there. He wants to be a good boy for his Master, really, but he also wants his Master to _make_  him be good.

It’s a fine line but Jared’s always needed a Dom who’s okay with him _not_  being perfect - with him sometimes pushing back just to get shoved. And Jensen gets that, is shoving back just right and Jared is getting lost in it, lost in the way Jensen has him on his knees with his ass in the air taking whatever Jensen gives him.

The blows rain down over Jared’s ass and thighs, covering every inch until Jared’s sure he’s bright red, can feel the searing heat of his own skin radiating out. Jensen rubs over his ass occasionally, dragging his fingertips to elicit moans that Jared can’t bite back. It’s not until the pads of Jensen’s fingers start circling Jared’s hole that Jared realizes the spanking is over.

He’s hazy, muddled and buried too deep under layers of pain and pleasure, so much sensation that his brain has shut down everything else. He’s not thinking about what’s coming next, just coasting on the need to please his Master, the way he spreads legs even further when Jensen taps the inside of his thigh. Jensen’s released his hair, Jared realizes, and he’s on the bed behind Jared now, one hand on Jared’s ass, pulling to spread him open, the other running a finger around and around Jared’s hole.

“I don’t know if I should fuck you, Jared,” Jensen drawls, sounding anything but uncertain. “Not sure you’ve deserved it.”

Jared wets his lips, fights the fog in his mind to try and put together a coherent answer. He’s not entirely successful.

“Please, please Master, fuck me, _please_ ,” is what tumbles out of his mouth and he could probably go on like that for a while if Jensen didn’t cut him off.

“I think you still need to be taught a lesson,” Jensen murmurs and Jared’s caught between dread and anticipation. “I want to see you show me how good you can be for me."

Jared nods emphatically, opening his mouth to speak when Jensen shushes him.

“You just stay right there and don’t come, alright sweetheart?” A term of endearment should not make Jared’s cock throb.

Jensen moves off the bed and when he comes back, he presses something slick and hard to Jared’s hole. It’s not a finger, but it doesn’t feel quite thick enough to be a dildo or one of his buttplugs either. When Jensen starts to rub it over his hole, pressing a little harder on every pass, Jared moans and tenses, holding himself as still as he possibly can.

The toy pushes in slowly, slick and easy and Jared realizes it’s slim and curved and it’s definitely a prostate massager. _Fuck_. There’s no way Jared’s going to keep from coming with Jensen rubbing that inside him like he is, making Jared practically come out of his skin every time it passes over his prostate. And then Jensen turns it on and Jared is gone, pushed back under by the effort of not fucking back, of not shoving himself down to rub against the mattress.

Every second his grip on control gets more tenuous and when Jensen wraps a firm, slick hand around his cock he thinks he might bite through his lip trying not to come but somehow he holds on, though the first pass of Jensen’s thumb over the wet slit of his cock drags a noise from his throat he doesn’t quite recognize as human.

Jensen’s murmuring in his ear, praise and encouragement and Jared latches onto it like a lifeline while Jensen slowly pushes him closer and closer to the edge. He’s begging, he can hear himself through the assault of pleasure, can hear the way his voice is cracked and raw and punctuated by whimpers as Jensen adds a wicked twist to his strokes. It seems to go on forever, Jensen torturing him with pleasure and assuring him he can do it, he can be good for his Master.

And then Jensen’s gone, no more hand on his cock, no more toy vibrating in his ass and Jared’s left gasping, feeling like he’s flying apart with nothing grounding him at all. He barely feels Jensen’s hands on his wrists, removing the cuffs, turning him around, putting him on his back and tugging his wrists back up until he finds himself cuffed to the bed with his wrists crossed above his head and his legs spread, Jensen kneeling between them with a condom in his hand.

“You did real good, Jay. You want me to fuck you now?” Jensen’s voice is gentler than Jared expects and he nods so hard he thinks he hurt something.

“ _Please_ ,” Jared whimpers, opening his legs as far as they’ll go, tilting his hips up and shuddering when it makes his cock graze his stomach.

Jensen pushes in with a tiny, aborted groan, like he didn’t mean to let it out. He stills when he’s bottomed out and Jared looks up at him, wondering when his clothes disappeared and trying to keep his hips still for his Master, trying not to shift on the incredible fullness he feels, the slight sting and stretch and the sweet pressure inside him. Jensen takes Jared’s legs, pushes them up and back so easily, Jared pliant and willing in his hands, the movement dragging a moan from both of them.

When Jensen starts to move, it’s in harsh, fast thrusts, needing to get deeper, closer, push Jared harder. It works, Jensen’s cock skating over Jared’s prostate again and again and he feels so close, too close, tears forming in his eyes from the effort of holding still, holding back, being good.

Jared drags his eyes up to meet Jensen’s, breath catching at the way Jensen’s gaze is fixed on his face.

“Please, Master. Please, I need - need to come, please.” His voice is only slightly calmer than earlier, now that his Master’s inside him, still rough and strained but coherent. Jensen watches him for another moment before nodding and shifting his angle.

It takes a few more thrusts and a couple of strokes to Jared’s cock, Jensen’s hand leaving his thigh to bring him off _perfectly_ , and Jared’s vision goes white, black spots exploding behind his eyelids, muscles in his stomach and thighs and back all convulsing as he streaks his own skin with come. Jensen follows almost immediately after, Jared still shaking and gasping with aftershocks and it’s an effort to open his eyes but it’s so worth it to see the way Jensen bites his lip and draws back, tears the condom off and jerks himself off.

He’s mumbling under his breath, “yeah” and “fuck” and “so good, Jay” and when he comes it’s all over Jared’s still twitching cock, a few ropes reaching Jared’s own come on his belly. It’s hot, hotter than Jared would have thought possible and as the comedown from his orgasm drains all of the tension out of him, Jensen dips his fingertips into the mess, rubbing come into Jared’s skin.

Jared can feel himself slipping into that familiar satisfied exhaustion, limbs loose and tingling, eyelids heavy and dropping. He closes his eyes, just for a minute, and when he opens them the cuffs are off his wrists, the clamps off his nipples, and Jensen is dragging a warm washcloth over his sensitive cock, around and above until his skin is clean and damp. Jensen starts to pull away and Jared whines in the back of his throat, trying to reach for him and fumbling. Jensen chuckles and presses a hand to Jared’s chest, just for a second, before going to toss the washcloth back to the bathroom sink.

He’s back on the bed almost immediately, untucking the blanket and shifting Jared until he can slide under the soft fabric, curling himself around Jared and pressing open mouthed kisses to his temple and shoulder. Jared feels high, the release of his orgasm combined with the rush of submitting to his Master, of _pleasing_  his Master, it makes him feel like he’s floating and the only thing grounding him is Jensen - Jensen’s hands on him, Jensen’s arms around him, Jensen’s lips, Jensen’s whispered praise. Jared lets himself go, drifts into sleep feeling safe and cared for.

There’s something sticking to his skin and there’s enough light coming through his eyelids that Jared must have slept in or something. He rubs his eyes and pries them open, stretching as he notices how sore he is - legs, arms, but especially his ass.

“Hey,” comes a sleepy voice from beside him and Jared starts, everything crashing back at once. Jensen is still in his bed, it’s still mid afternoon, and Jared just had the best sex of his life. He grins at Jensen, snuggling closer as Jensen shifts to wrap an arm around him.

“Good?” Jensen asks, and Jared nods. “Good. I was thinking -"

Jared’s stomach rudely interrupts, a loud growl that, while pretty much standard for Jared after a couple of hours without a meal, is probably slightly alarming to Jensen. He just laughs though, and presses a kiss to the top of Jared’s head.

“I was thinking we could go get dinner later,” Jensen starts, and Jared can hear the smile in his voice. “But maybe we should get a snack now.”

“Yeah, a snack would be good,” Jared says, starting to roll out of bed. “Pizza?”

Jensen lets out a bark of surprised laughter and follows him, reaching for his pants. Jared turns to watch him get dressed, blatantly staring. He hadn’t gotten a good look earlier but Jensen’s body is something Jared thinks he’s going to want to see a lot more of.

“So this was good, right?” Jared asks, sudden worry creasing his brow. He’s not usually this insecure, but he really _really_  wants this to happen again. “I mean, we’ll do it again sometime?”

Jensen smiles at him, stepping in close and pressing his lips softly to Jared’s.

“Yeah. We’ll do it again.” Jensen pauses, scanning Jared’s face, like he’s checking for something. “Till then though, I was hoping you’d like catch dinner sometime? Or a movie? Or both?”

Jared stares at him for a moment before it clicks.

“Oh! You’re asking me out. Yeah, totally.” Jensen’s face lights up in a relieved smile. “I probably woulda asked you out anyway, I had kind of a crush on you at the office.”

Jensen raises his eyebrows and Jared shrugs.

“I didn’t do it ‘cause I was having great sex with a guy from the internet, but if that didn’t pan out, I was definitely gonna ask you out.”

Jensen just laughs and ruffles Jared’s hair before pulling away to grab his shirt.

They end up ordering the pizza, both too tired and lazy to leave the couch for longer than it takes to get the door. Jensen stays till dinner, and then past dinner, until they’re both falling asleep in front of the a show neither of them is watching, until Jared summons the courage to ask Jensen to stay the night and Jensen lights up like Jared just offered him a new car and he can’t quite believe that this is the same guy who growled in his ear that Jared was his _good little slut_  the other day.

But then Jensen guides him up the stairs and to his bedroom with a hand on his lower back and it’s like his body remembers, and he’s not sure how he got so lucky to land a guy who’s somehow the most effortless date Jared’s ever had and the hottest Dom he’s ever been with at the same time but he’s not about to question it too much. Instead, he lets Jensen pull him close and flip the lights off, lets himself be led to bed and be undressed and basks in the attention Jensen pays to every inch of him.

And if the next day, when Jensen’s gone home, he sends an email to his Master asking whether he should wear anything special as if nothing’s changed, well, there’s no rule saying he can’t have a great maybe boyfriend, a really hot Dom in person, and an online Master who makes him wear plugs and orders him to get himself off in public restrooms.

The End.

 


End file.
